


do you want me to get that for you?

by lecornergirl



Series: literally just sex wow [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 22:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecornergirl/pseuds/lecornergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, of all the times that Bellamy could walk in on her in the bathroom, it has to be when she’s lying spread-eagled on the floor of his shower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	do you want me to get that for you?

Honestly, of all the times that Bellamy could walk in on her in the bathroom, it has to be when she’s lying spread-eagled on the floor of his shower, trying desperately to angle the water from the faucet onto her clit.

There’s every chance he wouldn’t even have realised what Clarke was doing, but as she twists around to see him, she finds the perfect angle, and she can’t hold in her moan as the jet of warm water hits her exactly where she wanted it. So he catches on pretty quickly.

On some level, she’d known they’d end up here eventually. Not here specifically, her naked on the floor of the shower and him trying not to stare at her very spread legs, but here, in a situation that could only end in one of two ways: either they’d fuck, or they’d vow to never speak of it again and be forever awkward around each other. She hopes it’s the first option.

But she thought the situation would arise sooner. She’s been living in Bellamy’s spare-room-slash-office for a month now while her apartment is being renovated, and so far it’s gone great. If by great you mean she spends a lot of time staring at Bellamy’s arms, and his back, and just all of him, and trying to be subtle but probably failing. There’s also been a lot of Netflix-and-actual-chill, and a lot of wine, and honestly it’s a miracle that Bellamy hasn’t pointed out how obviously she’s salivating over him.

So, yeah, she hopes it’s the first option. Bellamy’s only wearing an old pair of sweatpants that aren’t very concealing, so she has reason to believe he hopes so too.

But to get from point A to point B, one of them is going to have to say something. So she takes a deep breath and ventures “My, um. My vibrator died. So…”

Bellamy makes a strangled sort of sound. “You know there are batteries in the kitchen, right?”

“It doesn’t do batteries, it’s rechargeable. And the charger is in my apartment. Hence the, um—” she gestures at the water still running down the insides of her thighs. Why are they still having this conversation? She’s lying on the floor of his shower on full display. Is he not into that? His dick seems to be, at any rate.

“Oh,” he says. “Well. Do you want me to, um, get that for you?”

“Christ, I thought you’d never ask,” she says. He offers her a hand and pulls her up, wrapping an arm around her waist. He backs her into the wall, and she hisses when her back touches the cold tile. Then he’s kissing her, and all of those sleepless nights have in no way prepared her for it. If there was any doubt about whether she was in love with her best friend, this seals the deal. She’s screwed.

She’s dreamed about this, but none of her dreams have even come close to the real thing. Bellamy’s body is warm and firm against her, his hands are in her hair, holding her head in place, and it’s basically perfect.

Then he brings a hand down to stroke between her legs, and it’s all she can do to stay on her feet. The shower had gotten her most of the way there already, and Bellamy seems to know exactly what he’s doing. He brings his mouth down to her breast, scrapes his teeth across her nipple, and she cries out, clenching around his fingers. 

She pulls back to look at him, breathing hard. “Jesus, Bellamy—” she starts, but he cuts her off, grinning wickedly.

“You don’t think I’m done with you already, do you, Princess?” he asks. He reaches behind her to turn off the shower and picks her up, carrying her through the apartment to his bedroom. Not caring about the fact that she’s still soaked from the shower, he deposits her on the bed, taking a moment to just stare at her before she makes an impatient noise and reaches for him. He climbs onto the bed and crawls up to meet her, planting kisses along her body on his way to her face.

“Hi,” he whispers when his eyes are level with hers, and kisses her again. Kissing Bellamy might just be her new favourite thing. She might as well be honest with herself, anything Bellamy does is basically her favourite thing. 

She whines when his lips leave hers, but it soon turns into a satisfied purr when he kisses his way down to her breast, stopping to suck at a pulse point on her neck on the way. He takes a nipple into his mouth, flicking at it with his tongue, and brings a hand up to squeeze her other breast. He plays with her breasts for what feels like an age, and she’s about to get impatient when he finally moves on, dragging his tongue down her stomach. 

She sighs contentedly at the first touch of his tongue to her folds, and fists a hand in his hair. He finds her other hand with his, intertwining his fingers with hers in a gesture whose sweetness is completely at odds with the almost rough way he’s tongue-fucking her. She’s full-on moaning by now, occasionally muttering a “fuck, Bellamy,” and every now and then she jolts hard enough to tug on his hair. Judging by the sounds he makes, he’s into it.

His other hand finds her entrance, and his fingers start to stroke her from the inside out. It’s not long before she’s writhing under him, coming apart from his touch for the second time that night. 

She sits up and meets his eye, grinning deviously. Guiding him by the shoulders, she settles him on the bed on his back, divesting him of the sweatpants he was still wearing. Her hands go to his cock, and she keeps her touch as delicate as possible, barely ghosting her fingers up and down his length. He groans, closing his eyes, and that’s when she grabs him. 

“Jesus, Clarke,” he hisses. She strokes him slowly, and his eyes fly open. “You can’t just—I’m gonna—”

She grins, rising to straddle him. She sits on his stomach at first, her ass barely touching his cock, and she can feel it twitch against her. She leans down to kiss him, because Clarke gives as good as she gets, and then gets on her knees again, lowering herself onto him as slowly as possible.

He stares up at her in pure adoration. “Fuck, I love you,” he says. “I mean—not just because—” she cuts him off with another kiss.

“Good,” she says. “Me too.” Then she starts to really ride him in earnest, palming her own breasts, and she swears she sees Bellamy’s eyes roll back into his head. He gains some composure after a minute, pushing himself up so he can kiss her, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close. The shift in position pushes the base of his cock against her in a delicious way, and they come at the same time, slumping against each other. 

\--------

The next day, he helps her pick out a new vibrator. They both agreed finding one they could use together would be a lot more fun than going to get Clarke’s charger from her apartment.


End file.
